


Way to Your Heart

by fallenflowercrowns (meggiewrites)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, HAPPY ENDING PROMISED, Innocent Harry, M/M, Punk Louis, this was supposed to be short sorry it got out of control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/fallenflowercrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU, where Louis is in a band and Harry likes to come to the rehearshals for no particular reason. Punk Louis with a lot of tattoos and everything. Shy Harry with an angel face and not many friends. Strangers to lovers. Quick sex in the rehearshals' room (just handjob or blowjob) Happy end.</p><p>Harry pines but is oblivious, Louis is a punk with a big heart, Ziam shag behind everyone's backs and Nick is actually not in love with Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way to Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeamLouis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamLouis/gifts).



> Written for the H/L summer fic exchange!
> 
> Well. It kinda went from the prompt given and then turned into the longest thing I've ever finished - enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to Jordan, without whom I wouldn't even have known what to write, thank you also Cece and Sim for the moral support, and a special big thank you goes to Rachel for the beta and helping me out with the smut <3

Being the new kid is not fun. Harry had to experience that first hand when his mum decided that they’d move into a bigger house on the other side of town just because they could afford it.

It’s not like Harry had that many friends to begin with. There is Nick, the older radio DJ he met at a café who spilled hot chai latte over him, then tried to hit on him, and then somehow became Harry’s best friend after they’d established that Nick wasn’t Harry’s type at all and Nick was just a natural flirt. He still came over every other week to join the Styles family for dinner.

And then there was his sister Gemma, who was now going to uni and only came home on weekends. There were a few people in his old school that he got along with well enough, but other than eating lunch together or studying together they’ve never become what one could call friends.

Now here he was, standing in front of his new school, starting his second week, with still no one to talk to or spend his free time with. And he’d already forgotten where he had to be on a Monday morning.

The day goes by slowly, and Harry feels a cold void settle in his stomach when he sits alone during lunchtime, slowly pushing food down his throat that honestly tastes like moist paper.

By the time he tumbles out of his last class, Harry’s head is spinning. He’s keeping it down when he passes the few popular guys, and even though it’s only been a few days they already laugh at the loner kid with the girly clothes and no friends. It’s not nearly as bad as at his old school, though. He hadn’t been beaten up often, but it happened. So really, he can deal with being laughed at and sitting alone.

Harry only realizes that he’s standing in the wrong corridor when he tries to open his locker and then realizes, that yeah, it’s not even his. He then remembers that he has to go a floor up, and he starts tripping up the nearest stairs with a groan.

As he’s finally approaching his locker, he notices a faint strain of music coming from the other end of the hallway. A few guitars, a drumming beat. But what mostly stands out is the voice, light but at the same time rough and melancholic, singing lyrics Harry can’t understand from this distance.

After he’s shoved his books into the locker and taken his jacket out, he slowly approaches the door that stands open at the end of the hallway. He’s almost magically drawn in by the soft sound of that voice, like a siren singing to a sailor.

He peeps into the room and is surprised to find it’s a small stage- nothing compared to a big theatre stage, but a small room that looks like it could hold drama and music classes. Harry is actually backstage, and can peep through to the stage through a gap in between the curtains. There are four boys. The one holding a red guitar has bleach-blond hair and lets his fingers work the instrument like it’s the only thing he lives for. Harry tilts his head, he actually thinks he’s seen the kid before. Probably they share some classes. The bass player is black-haired, and looks like he’s just stepped out of a fragrance advert, he’s actually that beautiful. The drummer is brunette and muscular.

The last person on the stage is another brunette, and Harry stops breathing for a minute as he realizes that this is the one singing with the voice of an angel. A really ill-fitting description, now that he can see what the boy looks like. From what Harry can see from behind, the guy’s right arm is covered in tattoos, his brown hair shaggy. His feet are clad in Vans and move around with the rhythm his guitar is making and with the melody of his lyrics.

Harry startles as the song comes to an end, and the lead singer starts talking. “Lads! That was it for today, well done! See you all tomorrow morning, right?” He has now turned around and Harry can see his profile. He’s gorgeous and it makes Harry want to hit himself over the head for the way he’s hiding here absolutely drooling over an attractive stranger.

The blonde guitarist sighs dramatically. “Jesus Tommo, we’ve been here for only half an hour? ‘re you actually that desperate to get rid of us?” He has an Irish accent, and Harry grins. Yes, he definitely remembers hearing that voice before during one of his classes.

Angel Voice rolls his eyes “I need to get back home, Niall, me mum asked me to babysit. She’s working night shift and I can’t leave the twins alone with Lottie and Fizz for too long.”

And with that, the four boys get up, pack their stuff and suddenly come in Harry’s direction. He gets up hastily and almost runs out of the door, just barely managing to make it around the corner before the four musicians leave the stage room.

Wow, Styles, he thinks, that was one narrow escape.

………

In spite of his better judgment, Harry keeps coming back every day to check if those boys are playing again. After school he waits for a bit, then sneaks through the hallway to the studio. Or he tries to, even if his clumsiness makes it quite difficult sometimes. He finds out that they always practice on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, and doesn’t miss a single practice from that first day on.

One day, he stumbled into a prop backstage, and only managed to catch it before it would have fallen to the ground with a loud crash. He considers himself lucky that the band hasn’t noticed him yet. They’ll probably chase him away when they find him hiding behind the heavy curtains. Or even worse, call him a freak. Although actually they should be grateful because really, he only comes back because he’s a big fan of their music. Decidedly not because the lead singer was quite attractive. Definitely not.

It’s on a Friday when Harry makes a bit too much of a noise as he trips around backstage. Three of the four boys don’t notice, but the last one, the Irish one, turns around and stares into Harry’s direction. The curly haired lad is pretty sure that guitarist can’t see him – after all, he’s completely hidden in the shadows. But still, after the guitarist turns back around, Harry hurries out of the room before rehearsal has even started.

He feels weird on the weekend. Gemma teases him about his giant turtle frowny face, but he just pokes out his tongue at her and locks himself into his room.

On Monday he doesn’t go to see the boys. It’s the first time after that one fateful afternoon that he doesn’t go to one of the band’s tri-weekly practices. When he walks down the road to his house that day, he feels like he’s missing part of his daily routine.

He misses Wednesday’s practice too. And on Thursday, when he’s eating lunch all on his own in the cafeteria, he certainly doesn’t expect the blonde one to place his tray in front of him.

“Hi!”

Harry looks up, frowning. “Um. Hi?”

The boy extends his hand over the table, offering him a handshake “I’m Niall. Horan. I’ve been seeing you around lately.”

“Uh”

“At band rehearsals. And in general, of course. Ye’re new here, aren’t ya?”

“Um – I. Yes”

“Cool” the blonde boy – Niall – shovels so much food into his mouth and manages talking at the same time. Harry is a bit intrigued.

“You should come again! To see us, I mean. We started a new song yesterday, one Lou wrote. It’s sick!”

Harry trains his eyes on the milky white surface of the table and starts fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “You didn’t mind? You don’t think I’m a weird stalker?” His voice sounds tiny, and he almost wants to hit himself over the head with how timid he must seem to the other boy.

“Nah mate, you appreciate our music! That’s great actually, we don’t have many fans” Niall grins widely at Harry, revealing two rows of slightly crooked teeth. “I don’t think the other noticed you though, ye know, lurking in the dark. But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Liam almost gives himself an aneurism when he finds out that someone enjoys listening to us.” He cackles.

Harry frowns and Niall speaks up again “Of course, sorry buddy, I forgot that you don’t know our names! Liam’s the dummer. Big muscles, brown puppy dog eyes. Don’t be intimidated by him though. That lad is such a pushover, let me tell you. Black haired model bassist is Zayn. And Tommo is the boss. Band leader. Keyboarder/guitarist/lead singer whatever. They’re great lads,” he shrugs.

Harry manages to shake his uncomfortableness off. “Where are they now?”

“The Tommo and Liam have football practice. Zayn is skipping to whatever-they-do with his girlfriend.” Niall munches happily on his pasta, eyes still focused on Harry.

“Ah.”

He is shaken out of his thoughts when Niall groans, “Oh my god this is so delicious!” when biting into the chocolate and cranberry muffin he just unwrapped. Harry can’t help but let out a giggle. Niall returns it, a bit of chocolate crumbs on his chin.

The rest of lunch passes by quickly, and after 45 minutes Harry knows more about No Direction – apparently his new favourite band’s name – that he’d have imagined. Louis, Liam and Zayn met in primary school, and Niall moved here from Ireland in 5th grade. Niall is the only one with a brother, all the other ones have sisters. Liam and Louis are co-captains of the football team. Zayn’s favourite subject is art.

After a while, he tells him about Gemma, and how they’d moved here from the other side of town just a few weeks ago.

Niall asks him if he has made friends already, and Harry just shrugs.

“Well, you’re coming to practice again tomorrow.” Before Harry is even able to open his mouth, Niall continues. “No, I insist. You seem to like our stuff and we could really need someone to tell us where we could do better. Also,” he tacks on as he places his empty tray on top of the stack, “we’re friends now, so you’re obligated to come to your mate’s band’s rehearsals since I asked you.” The look he throws at Harry is smug.

“We’re friends?” Harry didn’t mean to sound quite as surprised as he does.

“Duh.” And with that, Niall takes a hold of his sleeve and tugs him along to the room where they both have Calculus.

……….

The next morning when Harry stumbles into the classroom, he hears a loud “Harry, over here!” from the back row. Niall is sitting there, once again with a shiteating grin on his face. And huh, Harry can’t remember having ever seen the Irishman in this particular class.

Apparently Harry has no brain-to-mouth filter, and apparently Niall is determined to become his friend, because he hears Harry’s commentary and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I usually prefer to sleep in, if I’m being honest. But you shouldn’t have to suffer through this alone, so… I’m here!”

Harry learns this morning that Niall literally never stops talking. Not even during class. Their French teacher glares at them literally a hundred times, and snaps a few minutes before the bell. “Monsieur Horan if you don’t have the kindness to shut up you may leave the classroom”

“Sorry Madame Smith. Won’t happen again, I promise.” Niall lies with a smile and a wink. Harry blushes a fiery red and hides his face behind his curls.

He doesn’t see Niall for the rest of the day, and so he goes back to the routine of eating alone.

Harry’s in his last class of the day, English lit, when his phone screen lights up with a new message from ‘Nialler :D’ And when the hell did he get Niall’s phone number?

You coming to practice, right?  
I already told the lads. You have to come

Harry sighs and his finger hovers over the keyboard, but then his teacher clears his throat and pointedly looks at Harry. For the second time of the day, Harry blushes a deep red and tucks his phone back in his pocket.

When everyone else is pouring out of the classroom Harry is still sitting there, contemplating. Eventually he gets up, grabs his bag and makes his way down to the sound stage.

Even several rooms away he can hear the loud laughter spilling out of the open door. And for once, Harry doesn’t take the backstage entrance, but shuffles over to the open door. He comes to a halt in the doorframe, timidly playing with his hair.

It takes some time for Niall to notice and then he greets him with his usual battle cry of “Harry!” as he makes his way over to the stunned teen. Niall wraps an arm around him and tugs him over to where the other band members are standing. “Lads! This is Harry, he’s a big fan of our music!”

Puppy-eyed muscle man immediately extends his hand for Harry to take: “Hi, I’m Liam. Nice to meet you!” His smile is warm and welcoming and it’s making relax Harry a little bit. The one with the black hair nods at him, glancing him over with a curious eye. “Zayn” he says, but doesn’t offer further information nor a handshake.

When Harry’s gaze falls on the last member of No Direction, his breath gets caught up in his lungs. Angel Voice is even more gorgeous up close. His golden brown hair is long and shaggy, but it works for him, and his chin and upper lip are dusted with stubble. There is a silver bar going through his left eyebrow and his arms are almost completely covered in tattoos. On top of that, his eyes are lined with black kohl. On anyone else it all might have been a bit over the top, but it actually suits him.

He looks significantly older than the rest of them, too, but it gets compensated by the boyish smirk tugging at his lips. “You go for the nerdy ones now, Niall?” he teases, his voice light but rough, making the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand up. Then he turns to Harry “You’re our little stalker, then? Wondered when you’d come out of your shelter.”

Harry awkwardly shifts around, trying not to meet the scrutinizing blue eyes with his own green ones, so the boy keeps talking. “I’m Louis Tomlinson. Most people around here call me Tommo, though. So, you like our music, Harold?”

“Yeah,” Harry mutters, still not meeting the punk’s eyes.

“In that case I hope you’ll enjoy the new song I wrote,” Louis says, a grin splitting his thin pink lips.

“You write the songs?” Harry’s interest is awakened now, and he feels a bit more excited about this again.

Louis laughs. It’s a high, sharp sound that’s also somehow soft. “I do. Some of them, at least. We also do covers. Now, if you’d like to seat yourself over there, and give us a good critique about what you think, alright, Curly?” And with that he pinches Harry’s cheek and ambles over to where his guitar is leaned against the wall.

Practice is fun; Harry likes it even better than when he was listening from behind the curtains. The boys actually ask him for his opinion a lot- does this riff sound better with those lyrics or those ones?- and even though Louis teases him all the time, Harry really enjoys it.

It quickly becomes a routine after that. He goes to band practice on Monday and Thursday, offering critique and praise to the four lads. Niall still clings to his side at school, almost completely abandoning everyone that isn’t his bandmates or Harry. It’s exactly a week after Harry met all of them officially, he’s currently eating lunch minding his own business at his own table, when suddenly a loud noise right in front of him makes him jump in his seat.

Louis is standing before him, having just ungraciously dumped his tray on the table right in front of Harry’s nose. His brows are furrowed and he looks pretty annoyed in general.

“My English teacher is going to fail me just because I handed in a paper one day late. One fucking day!” The older boy huffs, forcefully stabbing the steak on his plate with his fork.

“Um”

“Not ‘um’ Harold, this is a disaster! I’m not the brightest bulb in general and if I’m gonna fail this class it’s likely that I have to repeat the year and my mum is gonna kill me if I have to redo a year- again!”

Harry scratches his scalp, still trying to process the fact that Louis Tomlinson, football captain and general badass admired by many, has deliberately sat at his table. Has Louis already repeated a year, then?

Louis shoots him a glare. “Why do think I’m almost twenty and still haven’t graduated yet?”

Harry looks at him with big eyes. He had anticipated that Louis was a good bit older than him, but he’d thought nineteen, at the most.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re making me feel like a bloody zoo animal.” Louis doesn’t look angry though- if his slightly raised eyebrow is anything to go by he’s almost amused by the flabbergasted look Harry is probably sporting at the moment.

“Uh, sorry Lou, I hadn’t `known.” He shuffles around in his seat awkwardly, timidly glancing up at the older lad.

Louis sighs, running a trembling hand through his long hair. “It’s ok Hazza, not your fault. I’m just generally pissed, shouldn’t take it out on you though.”

Harry puts a load of food into his mouth, then stops it just before putting it in his mouth. “What did you just call me?”

Louis lifts his gaze again “Hazza? Oh it’s nothing, I make up nicknames for everyone, so don’t get a big head. But it suits you, I thought.”

Harry blushes, shyly lowering his eyes. “Yeah, ‘like it.”

Louis shoots him a toothy grin, and suddenly happy, bubbly Louis is back again. The older boy starts talking about the rest of his day, and how he’d have to babysit his kid twin sisters when he gets home, and after a couple of minutes Liam, Zayn and Niall join them at the table.

That also happens frequently from now on. It’s rarely that Harry eats lunch alone anymore. It’s most days that the fantastic four just pile onto his table. His mum is happy that he’s made friends, and while he has no idea how it happened, Harry is too.

Now that the end of school is coming and the band is preparing to play at their end-of-the-year dance. Harry’s protest that they’re too much punk rock for a formal dance, but he only gets four crooked head in return. By now, Harry has somehow become the band’s biggest fangirl and also their kind-of manager at the same time. He helps them organize their (still rare) performances at small parties and the occasional pub, and still comes religiously to every single band practice.

The four rowdy boys become all he talks about at home, and while his mother seems glad that Harry has made such close friends, Gemma usually just grins at him mischievously, whenever he mentions the No Direction boys. The smirk always gets bigger when he mentions Louis.

The punk singer has become somewhat Harry’s bodyguard. And while Harry still insists the bullying was never harsh before, Louis still insists on taking him to every single class.

“Lou, really. I can walk there on my own.” Harry is handling his arm full of books, and is struggling fitting them into his locker. Louis is just leaning next to him while sucking on a lollipop, the pink candy seeming mis-matched with the rest of Louis’ dark attire.

“Nope,” he says with a crooked grin, taking a lick, and then frowning at the jocks at the other end of the hall that are pointing and laughing to where Harry’s bag is tangled up in between his pigeon toed feet.

Harry lets out a deep sigh. The more time he is spending with Louis, the more he realizes it’s almost impossible to deny that he’s deeply attracted to the lad. Louis’ bad boy looks, combined with his cynical wit and almost childish attitude makes up a combination that draws Harry in like Louis is a black hole and Harry a lost spaceship. And having Louis always glued to his side because of the older boy’s protective instinct hasn’t made repressing the urge to throw himself at Louis any easier.

Just now, the way the singer is leaning against the lockers, twisting the lolly in between his fingers and his pink tongue licking the even pinker candy – Harry can only imagine what that mouth could do to him.

At that though he immediately turns bright red, starts to cough and drops the books he’s still holding. Louis snickers, but then bends down and picks up the books, giving Harry a nice display of his arse, and wow. Harry’s cough gets gradually worse. On top of that he can feel how hot his head feels, and oh god, me must look like a complete tomato by now.

Louis is no help at all, just standing next to him, giggling at Harry’s misery while still looking like fucking sunshine personified. Harry throws a glare at him, trying to look as menacing as possible.

Apparently he failed. Louis lets out a last, burst of laughter and then snickers, “Aww, look at little Haz getting all grumpy.” He then shoves the books into Harry’s locker, closes it, and then turns to face Harry again.

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat when Louis lifts his hand to put some of Harry’s dishevelled curls back in place, almost petting his head while going at it. God, what is this boy doing to me?

“No need to be embarrassed Hazzabear, you are cute when you’re clumsy” and with that he quickly takes Harry’s hand and drags him over to where there French class has probably already started.

……….

“So.” Nick is leaning forward on the table, his head perched up on his elbows despite of Anne’s disapproving looks. “How’s school? Any boys that have caught your interest yet?”

Before Harry can even open up his mouth to stutter out an answer, Gemma plops down in the seat next to the radio DJ. “Yup! Harry has been going on and on and on and on-” Harry throws her a look and she rolls her eyes and ignores him- “about this punk kid. Lewis, I think was his name.”

“Louis.” Harry wants to hit himself over the head for how smitten he sounds. He clears his throat and repeats, “His name is Louis.”

Nicks raises his eyebrows, and the left one twitches the way it always does when there is some gossip he clearly wants to catch up on. “A punk? Why Harry, I never would have thought those were your type!” He wrinkles his nose. “They are certainly not mine”

Harry frowns “He’s hot though! And … he’s … he’s Louis.” Gemma coos, and he’s pretty sure he can hear that traitorous mother of his joining in from the kitchen.

His sister giggles and pokes the dimple that seems to have mysteriously appeared over the course of the conversation. “Look at him Nick, look at that!! He is so gone for this boy, it’s ridiculous.” She gloriously munches on her food, just ignoring all the death stares Harry is sending in her direction. “And we have never even met him!”

Anne chuckles as she joins the table, sitting down on the opposite of her kids and Nick. “Gemma is right about that. When can we meet that boyfriend of yours?”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Harry can feel the heat in his flushed cheeks, and tries not to smile too stupidly while not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Nick nudges his arm. “Ah, but you want him to be! Don’t lie to me Harry, I know how it goes.” Harry just covers his face with his hands.

The rest of the dinner passes by in a similar manner. Gemma tries (and succeeds) at embarrassing him about his crush on Louis, Nick tries to get Harry to say that yes, he will take some action to get closer to the older lad, and Anne just smiles knowingly and listens to the banter of the three of them.

It’s about two hours later, when both Gemma and his mum having retreated to their rooms, that Nick and Harry plop down on the couch together, their stomachs still hurting from laughing too much.

“So. That punk boy of yours. How did you meet him?” Nick takes a sip of his beer, looking at Harry expectantly.

“Um. I listened to his band when they rehearsed. And after I went back for a few times, the guitarist, Niall, asked me to join them and give them advice about their sound and stuff? And Louis, I think he just sees me as this younger brother he has to protect. Even though I think we’re kind of best friends by now. He tags along wherever I go. Sometimes it’s almost a bit annoying.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “To me that sounds more like he’s extremely jealous and protective of you. Really, you should go for it.” Harry just shrugs. He still doesn’t believe that Louis has any kind of more-than-friendship feelings for him, no matter how many times Gemma, his mum, or now Nick tell him otherwise. It’s not like they know Louis.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, watching the telly flimmering before their eyes, but then Nick suddenly turns to Harry again. “Did you say he was in a band?”

“Yeah. He and his mates Liam, Zayn and Niall. Who are kinda my friends too now. Why?”

“Well,” Nick says slowly as he twiddles with his beer bottle, “I’m starting this segment on my show where I play some small local bands, and there are still a few spots open. You know,” he gestures vaguely. “If your boy – and his mates - were interested.”

……….

“Our songs could get played on the radio?!?” Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen Niall that excited before, which really does say something.

Harry nods eagerly “Yeah, I told Nick you were like, really good. He wanted to see you play first though, so.”

“So, what, Harry?” Liam’s voice is warm and calm as always, but even in his there is a detectable trace of excitement.

Harry lets his eyes roam over the three tense boys standing before him. Zayn has his arm slung around Liam’s waist, his head resting on the broader lad’s shoulder. Louis is the only one that hasn’t joined their little circle, but even from where he’s standing Harry can see the smile tugging at his lips while he furiously scribbles something down in his lyrics notebook.

“Um. I asked him to join us today? He should be here any minute.” A string of “oh my gods, where is my guitar, do I look to sluggish, shut up bebz you look perfect” can be heard from the three boys, before a sharp voice interrupts them.

“You invited a guy from the radio to listen to us without asking us first?” Louis words cuts through Harry’s euphoria like a knife, and Louis’ eyes seem ice cold when his gaze meets Harry’s.

“Yes I did. I thought you’d be happy about it.” His voice is weak, tiny, and yeah, he wanted to surprise them but apparently Louis hates it, so.

He hears the older lad sigh and then walk over to him. A warm hand faintly touching his arm, petting it. “It’s alright Haz, don’t worry. You wanted to be nice, I get it. Just ask us first, next time, yeah.”

When he lifts his head again and his eyes meets Louis, the coldness is almost completely gone, and his eyes radiate this warmth that makes the butterflies erupt again in Harry’s tummy.

Niall, Zayn and Liam are already busy cleaning up the space, which really is unnecessary, so they don’t notice how Louis slowly lifts his hand, tracing it over Harry’s cheek. “It’s alright, Haz,” he almost whispers, then quickly withdraws his hand and gives Harry a small smile. It’s so timid that it’s out of character for loud, ‘all-or-nothing’ Louis Tomlinson.

And then he’s suddenly not in Harry’s personal space anymore, rushing over to where his guitar is placed in the corner, gathering his band together.

Nick arrives a few minutes later, shakes everyone’s hands (except Louis’, because the punk didn’t offer it) and then plops down on a chair next to Harry, draping his arm over his friend’s shoulder.

They play a few songs, all of them favourites of Harry’s which makes him somewhat (extremely) proud, and he grins at Nick and nudges his side all the time whenever Louis hits a high note, or any of the lads pull through an amazing solo.

After the performance, Nick tells them that they’re actually really good, and Harry stands close to him, smiling so wide it probably makes him look weird. He’s just so fucking proud. Nick wants a demo so that he can actually play them on the show, and when Liam tells him that at the moment, there is none, his answer is, “Then get on with it gentleman because this could be your big break through!” With that, the band (or at least all of them except Louis) erupt into cheers. Then Nick leaves, shortly followed by Liam and Zayn, glued to each others side, laughing and cheering. And so Harry is left with an over-enthusiastic Niall and a frowning Louis.

Niall immediately wraps him in a big hug. “Oh my god Harry, thank you so so much!! This is fucking amazing. Fuck! Thanks!” He squeezes him one more time, and then leaps out of the door.

Louis on the other hand doesn’t seem excited again. The cold is back in his eyes and he has his arms crossed. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Isn’t he a tad old for you?” His words are sharp, pressed out in between almost closed teeth

Harry splutters “Nick? God no, Nick isn’t my boyfriend! I mean yeah, when we first met he was interested in me, but no. Just, no.”

“He really isn’t your lover?” Harry’s head snaps up at how laced with insecurity Louis’ words are, and when he looks into those ice blue eyes he finds something he never expected to find in Louis: Vulnerability.

He shakes his head softly “Not my boyfriend.” And before he can even fathom what’s going to happen now, or why Louis even asked that question, Louis’ lips are on his.

……….

Only a week later, Louis’ hand is clammy in his own as they stand in front of Harry’s home.

Louis shuffles around, staring at the white door in front of him. Harry can feel his hand shaking a tiny bit. He laughs softly. “Lou. No reason to be nervous. It’s just my mum.”

“Yeah well, just your mum. For all that I know she might skin me and eat me alive for stealing her little boy from her and corrupting him.” And yeah, in the seven days that they’ve been a thing, HarryandLouis, boyfriends, Harry has quite quickly discovered that Louis covers his insecurities up with snark, sarcasm, and jokes.

Harry buries his nose in Louis’ chestnut hair. “’S not stealing if I’m ok with it. And it doesn’t matter that you’re like, the first boy I’ve ever brought home. She’s gonna love you, I swear.”

Louis sighs and lifts his hand to ring the bell.

Anne opens the door, and Harry has to admit she looks lovely. She’s not at all threatening, of course, and he’s sure it’s more likely that she’s going to be embarrassing Harry for hours rather than threatening Louis’ life.

“Harry! And you must be Louis, right? Come on in, boys!” She ushers them inside, guiding a still obviously very nervous Louis over to the living room. Harry has to giggle at the way Louis looks like he’s seen a ghost. He has taken his piecing out, and for once he’s not wearing eyeliner. His tattoos are covered up by a long-sleeved basketball tee, and even his hair is in order. No matter how many times he was told that Anne would accept him as Harry’s boyfriend no matter how he looked, it’s quite a different sight so see Louis so polished and fresh. Harry can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it.

Anne is lovely to Louis for the whole duration of the dinner, asking Louis questions about his sisters, his mother’s work, and even the band, and Louis always answers politely. It gets a bit rowdier when Gemma comes downstairs and joins them, and the first words out of her mouth are, “Harry told us he was dating a punk, but you honestly look more like a twink.” To which Louis flushes a deep red, ducking his head.

After a long prodding from his curious sister and actual encouragement from Harry, Louis reluctantly pulls of his shirt, leaving him in a sleeveless tank top. His tattooed arms and chest are on full display. Gemma wolf whistles, and after Anne tells Louis that his body art is astonishing Louis finally, visibly relaxes.

Harry takes his hand under the table and squeezes it. See? I knew it’d be ok.

……..

Now that Louis has Harry’s family’s approval, they become much more open with their relationship than they were before. Louis always picks him up to drive to school, they hold hands in the hallways, text during classes, and Louis continues to give everyone the finger that calls them faggots or any other bigot term.

They out themselves to the rest of the band one day at practice. Harry was half an hour early and had just started looking over his maths homework, when a flushed Louis, still in his football gear and panting, appeared in the doorframe. “Hey … Haz.”

A smile tugged at Harry’s mouth at the sight of his sweaty boyfriend. Unconsciously he licked over his bottom lip. “Hi Lou. Why are you early?”

“Coach said I shouldn’t overwork myself.” With that he took two big steps, unceremoniously shoved the books of Harry’s lap and instead plopped down on it, straddling Harry’s thighs with his own. He placed his hands on either side of Harry’s head and pushed their mouths together. Teeth clashed, and the kiss was messy and open-mouthed and driving Harry wild from the start. 

He panted when Louis pushed his bum against his hardening erection, and Louis laughed quietly when Harry’s arms wound around his waist. “Is that a banana in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”

Harry’s mouth is too dry and his palms too clammy to even attempt to be clever. “You’re flushed and sweaty and grinding on top of me so yeah I’ve had worse days.”

“Grinding on- oh, don’t be silly, Harry, that’s not grinding. This is grinding.” Now Louis is just being wicked, cradling the back of Harry’s neck in one hand and gripping his thigh in the other as he rolled his hips down hard over Harry’s crotch. All of a sudden Harry’s having significant problems catching his breath.

“You’ve got to stop that,” he pants, and mercifully Louis does. At least now he can finish his sentence. “The others are going to be here soon, and I’m going to be all worked up- fuck!”

Louis’ moving those hips again, slow and teasing, kissing Harry’s plump bottom lip as he does. “We don’t have to stop,” Louis murmured. “If you don’t want to be worked up when they come in, I could…”

Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Are you- here? On stage?”

“Could be fun,” grinned Louis. “Fun for me, fun for you…”

Harry can’t even form actual words, just crushes his mouth to Louis’ even more fervently than before. Calloused fingers trailed from the back of his neck down across his collarbones light as a feather, and then he’s being pushed backwards firmly but gently until he’s on his back on the cool wood slats of the stage and staring up at catwalks and Louis.

Everything gets a little heady just then, because Louis is pushing up his shirt and sucking little lovebites into his stomach, like Harry needs a further excuse to be painfully hard. He’s completely still as Louis unzips his jeans, like if he breathes too loud he’s going to startle Louis into stopping, but then there’s a firm hand wrapped around his cock and a warm mouth teasing the tip-

And from then on Harry just focuses on holding on for dear life, fingers tangled in Louis’ hair and tugging maybe harder than he should, but this is the first time Harry’s ever felt anything like this and fuck if it doesn’t feel incredible. Even more so because Louis is moaning like he’s enjoying this just as much as Harry and it’s a sound that Harry’s had one or two or a dozen wet dreams about anyway and the way he hums makes this vibration on Harry’s cock that makes his thighs quake, too.  
“Fuck, fuck, Louis,” Harry manages to gasp, and at some point he must have worked a hand down the back of Louis’ shirt because then his nails are digging into the skin there. Louis hums in answer, which doesn’t help Harry focus on saying “I’m going to come, I’m really close, I-”

If he expected Louis to stop then he’s sorely mistaken, because it only makes him redouble his efforts, hand steady and tongue teasing Harry into a frenzy until he shouts one more “Fuck!” and comes right there in Louis’ mouth.

When Louis’ worked him through the last of his orgasm and Harry’s head has thudded back onto the floor of the stage, Louis sits up and smirks proudly as he pulls the boy’s boxers back up. He runs into problems when he tries to work his jeans back up over Harry’s bum, mostly because he’s laying there like dead weight and being zero help to Louis whatsoever.

“Haz, you’re going to have to help me out,” Louis laughs as he tugs on the belt loops. “If it was a mediocre blow I apologize but work with me, here.”

He barely has time to get the words out before Harry’s struggling to sit up and pressing their lips together. “Definitely not mediocre. Fuck. Thank you. Can I-? I mean I’ve never-”

“No time right now. Get me back later, yeah? Got an empty house this afternoon…”

Harry thinks about Louis’ bed and Louis’ body and those little moans Louis was apparently so fond of making and just grins.

They were both still panting, Harry’s trousers gaping open to show off his pink plaid boxers, when the other three entered the room. “Oh sweet Jesus, I haven’t seen anything, nope, I have not.” That was Liam, quickly covering his eyes and leaving again. Zayn just chuckled, muttered. “As if you haven’t done stuff like that before,” shortly winked at the two boys and then followed his best friend.

Niall on the other hand just stood there with a shiteating grin, showed them two thumbs up and said, “Finally, lads! I actually thought we’d have to lock you to into a closet or something. Congrats mates!” 

Louis looked at Harry, Harry blushed, and then Louis just burst out laughing, soon joined by Harry’s giggles. 

Now it’s two weeks later, and the two boys are just laying in Harry’s bed after appropriately (or inappropriately) celebrating their one month anniversary. Harry has his head placed on Louis’ chest and is tracing the inked words there. “‘t was wonderful Lou, thank you. Thanks for doing this for me.”

Louis chuckles, the timber vibrating through his chest. “You don’t have to thank me, silly” he tangles his hands in Harry’s curls then whispers softly into his ear. “Thank you for letting me your first, sweetheart. I’m really honoured.”

Harry blushes and buries his face in Louis’ side, pecking the tan skin wherever he can reach. Louis’ fingers start prodding his sides, tickling him. He gasps for air and starts to giggle. “Stop, Louis, stop!!” Louis grins that crooked grin of his and pulls Harry close for another kiss. Harry pushes him away and pouts. “You just totally ruined the mood.”

The older boy just grins and playfully pats Harry’s bum, which makes the younger boy wince. Louis raises an eyebrow. Harry smirks at him. “My butt still hurts. I like it.” The last three words are whispered into Louis’ ear in a soft timbre. Louis shudders, entwines their hands and pull Harry towards him. Their lips meet in a soft kiss. 

Only minutes later, Harry is out like a light, fast asleep, his lanky body spread out on Louis’ tattooed, muscular one. Louis pulls the younger boy closer and wonders what he did to get so lucky.

………..

“No Haz, go right, right I said!! … Ugh.” Louis throws away his joystick after Harry’s character died for yet another time. For once they’re at Louis’, and despite the punk’s numerous attempts to get his boyfriend to like/be able to play video games, it seems like Harry is just absolutely horrible at it. The curly-haired lad is currently glaring at the screen in front them, looking a bit like a lost kitten. Louis can’t stand it. He throws an arm over Harry’s shoulder and nudges his side. “Hey, cheer up cuddlemuffin! C’mon, let’s get some food.”

They’re alone in the Tomlinsons’ house- Louis mum and the girls went to visit his grandma. Louis pours Harry a bowl of cereal, placing it in front of the younger boy. Harry snorts. “This,” he says, “is what you call food?”

Louis shrugs, adding milk to his own bowl. He’s wearing nothing but sweatpants and an oversized jumper. Harry loves him like this, loves to see the soft side of the boy the whole school knows as rowdy, loud, sarcastic. “It’s the only thing I can make without messing it up. I can also make toast but,” he holds up an empty plastic, “there’s none left.”

Harry hums and starts opening the cabinets. Surely somewhere … “Aha!” He pulls out an ounce of flour, proudly showing it to Louis, who tilts his head. “Yes? Baby, what do you want with that?”

“With this pack of flour, and-” he opens the fridge- “those eggs-” he takes them out- “I’m gonna make us some pancakes!” Harry smiles widely, but Louis just stares at him. “Um, Lou? Is that okay?”

The older boy sets down his bowl with soggy cereal and then toddles over to where Harry is standing, and then wraps him up in his arms the way it says ‘I never wanna let you go’. 

Harry chuckles, returning the hug. “You’re cute.” 

Louis lifts his head and glares at him. “I’m not cute. I’m handsome, rugged and manly!”

His declaration teases a snorting laugh out of Harry. He runs his hands through Louis’ hair. “Sure you are.”

Louis again settles his head into the crook of Harry’s neck. “You’re making me food. I wanna keep you forever.”

Later, when they’re eating the (very delicious) pancakes, playing footsie under the table, Louis’ phone goes off. Harry looks at it curiously.

“It’s Niall. Says he’s bored. Asks if he can come over?” Harry shrugs a ‘why not’ and after typing up a short reply, Louis places the iphone back on the table.

“What about Liam and Zayn?” Harry asks, his mouth full of pancakes “Should we ask them over too?”

“Nah” Louis also digs in, interrupting now and then to moan at the taste of Harry’s pancakes “Zayn is at Liam’s. I swear these two are glued at the hip lately. I liked it better when he was banging Perrie. He has a bad influence on Liam.”

Harry starts choking on his own pancakes.

Niall arrives after they’ve just put away the dirty dishes, and the three once again settle on the couch. Niall and Louis play FIFA, and Harry is curled into his boyfriend’s side like a kitten. 

He’s really very sleepy, and only perks up again when he hears Niall and Louis talking about the band. “Hey, guys. Nick asked about the demo yesterday. Kept prodding me about it the whole evening. I could give to him when I see him tomorrow?”

Harry can see Niall opening his mouth, but Louis talks over him. “Could you hand me the crisps, Ni. Thanks.” And with that, the topic is through.

………..

That Saturday, the band is playing that one gig they have all been waiting for for months. It’s at a small club that signed up three local bands to play for a quite big crowd, and even though no one has any idea how Louis managed to get it so that No Direction is one of those bands, he did. When Harry asked him about, he just whispered “I have connections” in his ear, his tone most definitely dirty. 

Now Harry is standing by the bar of said club, waiting for his boys to come on stage. Louis had insisted for him to be backstage, but Harry wanted to get the ‘full concert experience’. See what they are like from the audience’s point of view. Already now, when the crew was still setting up their instruments, Harry felt quite giddy.

In his excitement he didn’t even notice the body sliding onto the barstool next to his, and only turned around when he heard a surprised gasp. “Harry? What are you doing here?!”

Harry grinned sloppily when he saw his best friend. “Hi Nick. Louis and the lads are playing tonight, so I’m here like a good boyfriend and friend and support them!” 

Nick’s eyes go almost comically wide. “They’re actually performing. Respect,” he whistles.“I thought they were good but I didn’t know they were good enough that Wade would put them on the setlist.” He then sceptically looks at Harry. “Are you even old enough to be in here? Does your mum know you’re here?”

Harry shakes his head and bites his lip. “She thinks I’m at Louis’.” 

“Oh là là, naughty boy you are. Well, I’m not the one that’s gonna tell her that her teenaged son is visiting an 18+ club to see his older boyfriend’s band perform. So don’t worry about me.”

They don’t talk much more before No Direction’s set begins. Nick is glued to the screen of his phone, often grinning teasing his lip between his teeth.

“Is that Michael?” 

Nick quickly shoots up after Harry’s question, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, yeah. We actually wanted to come together, tonight, it was supposed to be a date, but his mum got sick yesterday so he had to drive up to Glasgow.”

“Hm” Harry sips on the beer Louis had brought him beforehands. He hates the taste, so he just puts it back on the bar. At the same time the lights are turned off, and Harry turns to the stage excitedly. 

………

“That was such a great concert, don’t you think so, Nick?”

The radio DJ bobs his head in agreeance, having an arm slung over Harry’s shoulder to steady himself. 

“I really want them to give you the demo they recorded, it’s of the last song they performed tonight, it’s my favorite one, actually! Louis has written it for me, you know?” Harry babbles on, while simultaneously trying to keep his older friend up right. 

Nick is quite inebriated, but he seems to listen to Harry and earnestly nods at the mention of the demo. After No Direction’s performance two other bands also took the stage, and while Harry liked them both, they didn’t even come close to what his boys had delivered tonight. He’s still riding on the high that listening to his friends, his boyfriend, on a professional level got him.

The only thing that is a bit concerning is that Louis and the others are nowhere to be seen, even though they promised that they’d look for him after they set. 

Another ten minutes pass, Harry still struggling with the by now very drunk Nick on his side, who’s busy wrapping his too-long arms around Harry’s middle. His best friend has always been a handsy drunk. Finally Louis’ slender figure, clad in skinny jeans and a black tank top, appears in front of Harry. 

His eyes are a clouded, and his breath reeks of alcohol. His left ear is fiery red, and with a closer look Harry is able to determine that there are now two studs in his earlobe that surely weren’t there before. Nick is still clinging to his side, and Louis is drunk. Harry’s mind is already screaming that this can’t end well.

“Hiya Haz! Hmm, my snugglebutt I have missed you.” Louis tries to wrap his arms around Harry, but frowns when there’s already someone else holding onto his boyfriend. His vision goes red when he realizes it’s Nick fucking Grimshaw.

“What the fuck is he doing here?!” he hisses at Harry.

“Nick? Um, I met him by accident and we listened to your set together.”

Louis snorts, his legs wobbling a bit. “Yeah sure. Just, completely by chance, Grimmy comes to the same bar where little Harry insisted to spend the time listening to his boyfriends gig. Come on Harry, don’t fuck with me. You invited him, yeah? You wanted to meet up with him. It wouldn’t surprise me if you planned going home together too. Is that the reason why you so desperately wanted to come?” He lets out a short, unamused laugh while his voice gets gradually louder. “Surely it was too much to expect that you’d actually come here for me!”

“Louis, no, I-” Harry starts, but the older boy won’t let him continue.

“No, fuck you, Hazza. Fuck you.” And with that he turns and storms out of the club.

Harry stands there for several minutes, frozen by Louis’ harsh words. Someone bumps into him, and only that manages to snap him out of it. He turns to the bar and clears his throat to make one of the bartenders notice him. When a petite blonde finally turns to look at him, he points over to where Nick is slouched on the bar. “Could you maybe call a taxi for my friend there, please? And make sure he gets in it.” He smiles at her, as charmingly as possible with the tears brimming in his eyes, and she nods with a smile of her own.

He doesn’t lose another second. Within half a minute he’s out of the door, and thank god Louis is still standing there, a cigarette in between his lips, eyes quivering shut.

“Lou?” He wants to extend his hand, touch him, comfort him, because it’s obvious that Louis is at least as shaken up as he is himself, but he doesn’t dare to, afraid of the way that the cold that usually only shortly haunts Louis eyes has now taken over his whole body.

“What do you want, Styles?”

Harry wants to speak, but not a word comes out.

Louis’ laugh is hollow, emotionless. “Go back to your cougar, Harry. That old leech apparently enjoys your company very much.” He takes another drag of the smoke, blowing a ring of gray into the night. “At least he’s someone. Here I am, never going to amount to anything. I’m literally going in ‘No Direction’. Why would someone as wonderful as you choose me anyway? I’m a failure-”

“You are not.” 

“I am. I fucking am, Harry! I don’t deserve you! But that fucking bloodsucker, that pedophile, he doesn’t deserve you either!”

And that’s the last straw it takes for Harry to break. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Louis! You have no right to talk about my best friend like that. He has always been there for me, always! I’ve known him for years, whereas I’ve known you for what, 7 weeks?” Harry’s voice starts to crack no matter how desperately he wishes it wouldn’t. “And the fact alone that you believe I’d even think about cheating on you with him, just because we both had some drinks, makes me realizes… it makes me realize I was wrong about you. You’re not the person I want to share my life with.” Harry takes a deep breath.

“Goodbye, Louis.”

……….

Harry spends the rest of the weekend locked in his room, crying. His mum just pets his head whenever she comes in. Gemma tries to talk to him, but he never answers. After her third try, he yells at her too. He feels even more shitty after that.

Niall tries to call him, Nick tries to call him, Liam leaves him one hundred thousand messages, and even Zayn leaves a concerned voicemail, asking what happened in his soft Bradford accent.

The only one that doesn’t call is Louis. 

On Monday he ignores Niall when he gets to class, deliberately sitting in a chair at the end of the row when there’s none left besides him. He skips lunch and hides out in the library, finally catching up on all the assignments he neglected when he spent all his free time with Louis and the others at band rehearsals before.

He considers going to rehearsals again, just hiding behind the curtains like he did before he knew the lads, but then decides against it. That’s the first place Niall, Zayn and Liam would look for him.

He manages to hide away from all of his friends ‘til Friday, when Niall corners him during world history. The blonde boy plops down next to him before Harry can stand up and bolt out of the room, the same way he did during most classes he shared with Niall. He has skipped way too many hours this week already.

To his surprise, Niall doesn’t ask him about Saturday. He just scribbles down his notes, occasionally glances over at Harry’s (because no matter what, history will always be Niall’s worst subject), and doesn’t say a word. When he gets up after the lesson ends, he waits for Harry by the door.

They walk in silence side by side for a while, until Niall finally clears his throat “You know, breaking up with your boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to break up with your friends, too.”

Harry shrugs. “You’ve known Louis longer than me. It’d only make sense you’d side with him. Also, we’ve not broken up?”

“That’s complete bullshit, man. He completely overreacted. I have only heard the first part of the conversation, but that was completely out of line- wait, what? You haven’t broken up?”

Harry sniffs, and brings up his sweater paw to dry away the tears- when did those start falling. “No, of course not. At least, he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

Niall is looking at him with his mouth wide open, eyes widened in disbelievement “No, mate, you broke up with him! At least that what Louis’ told us. And get that you did it, he was a complete twat, but - what?”

Harry shakes his head furiously. “I didn’t break up with him!” You are not the person I want to share my life with. Goodbye, Louis. “Oh god. Did I break up with him?” 

Niall shrugs. “No idea, Haz. But - and don’t hit me now - since you seem unsure about this, and both you and Louis have been miserable twats this whole week -don’t try to deny it I talked to Gemma- I think you should talk.”

He still a bit irritated that Niall talks to his sister and considering answering when he realizes where Niall has been leading them. 

“I am not coming to band rehearsals!!” he almost yells, yanking his arm from Niall’s grip and coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the hallway. “And since when do you practice on Fridays?”

“Since now. And yes, you are! You need to talk to Louis. I’m not letting you go before that. I’m sick and tired of two of my best friends not talking to each other because one is an insecure mess and an idiot and the other is as stubborn as a mule. Now. Come. On.”

Their yelling has attracted Liam and Zayn, who are now standing in the doorway. Liam raises an eyebrow. “Oh good, you’ve found Harry. I’m glad. While a band leader that writes dozens of sad break-up songs is not necessarily bad, one that just starts yelling, kicking stuff and then breaking down crying definitely is.”

“Louis … has been crying?” Harry’s voice is small, as small as he feels. 

“Jesus don’t you know the Tommo at all? And I thought you were the one dating him. Louis is so self-conscious he has to hide it way under his snarky attitude. He thinks he wasn’t enough for you, Harry, that’s why he got so mad at the club! He thinks you’ve confirmed that by bringing Nick, and then got angry, mostly at himself, because, and I quote ‘I’ve lost the only great thing I’ve managed to achieve in my life.’” It’s probably the first time Harry has heard Zayn speak that much in one single day, and suddenly, everything makes sense. 

He only ever saw his own side of the matter, which was actually quite simple. Boyfriend gets pissed because his boyfriend brings older, gay best friend to bar. Boyfriends accuses boyfriend of cheating, even though no cheating has happened/would have happened. Boyfriend insults best friend. Other boyfriend leaves. 

But Louis, his poor, sweet Lou … “I have to see him.” And with that he presses through the door, shoving Liam and Zayn aside, stepping on the small stage.

Louis is sitting on a stool, hands folded in his lap, head hanging low. He doesn’t look up when he hears the footsteps.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice is tentative, tender, as if approaching an injured animal.

Louis just sniffles, not looking up.

“Lou, you. You think you’re not good enough for me?” Harry takes a step closer, slowly extending his arm.

A humourless laugh “I know I’m not. You have good grades, a family that fully supports you. You have a great life ahead. Maybe it’s good you broke up with me. I’d only hold you back anyway.”

“Lou, that’s not true. I love you, Louis, don’t you get that? Those seven weeks I spent with you were the happiest of my life. And I don’t care what you do, I just love you, the way you are. To me you’re the most wonderful, talented, adorable person, and I don’t wanna have anyone else by my side.”

“I just. I hated the way he clung to you all the time. From the beginning on. And then it just triggered something in me and I-” he sobs. “I was so mean to you. I said such ugly things about him, and you, but I just didn’t want him to take you away even though I know you would leave some day anyway. And it hurt, it hurt so much because I love you so, so much! And … ”

Harry takes a few confident steps and then wraps his arms around Louis’ shaking, slumped body. “I will not leave you. I love you. And,” he murmurs as he pets Louis head, pressing a few kisses in the feathery hair, “I never broke up with you. What I said at the end was my anger talking, not my heart. You are the only one I want to share my life with. This is just a bump in the road. I love you.” 

Louis lets out something between a laugh and a sob, and then he wraps his arms around Harry and cries into his shoulder. “I love you too Harry. I love you so much it hurts.” 

A little click lets Harry lift his head, and he sees the three other boys standing on the other side of the stage. Niall has his phone out, having just taken a picture of the couple, and Zayn is leaning against Liam’s chest while the drummer wraps his arms around the dark-haired boy’s body. 

Louis finally looks up, meeting Harry’s loving gaze with the warmth of his blue eyes. His eyeliner is all over the place - and are those lip piercings? - but he looks just every bit as perfect as on the first day Harry ever laid eyes on him. And then some.

Louis tears himself away from Harry’s sparkling green eyes and turns to Niall. “Stop taking pictures of me Horan, I’m a hot mess.”

Niall just shrugs, and lets the phone slip into his pocket. “Yeah, but you’re Harry’s hot mess.”

He exchanges a look with Harry, and they burst out laughing. It’s not long before Louis joins in, shortly followed by Liam and Zayn. 

When they’ve all calmed down a bit, and start fetching their instruments, Harry bends over to Louis, whispering in his ear. “You know that Nick is engaged, right? He has been wearing that diamond ring every time you’ve met him.”

Louis almost stumbles over the wire of his keyboard.

………

“Good morning England, this is your favorite DJ Nick Grimshaw with today’s breakfast show! You know that I recently started a series called ‘Young Voices’ where I play demos from up and coming local bands. Now today’s song is called ‘Strong’ by an indie rock/punk band called No Direction, and as a special surprise, I actually have No Direction’s lead singer and the writer of this song here with me in the studio! Welcome Louis Tomlinson, everybody!!”

“Hi, Nick,” Louis says into the microphone.

“Now Louis, I have been told that his song is actually very dear to you, is that true?”

“That is the truth, yes. I wrote it for my boyfriend who I believe is the love of my life. And, we’ve had some rough patches lately, but we pulled through, and I have to say, Harry has been my anchor throughout this whole experience and he is the one that does, in fact, make me strong.” 

Louis lets out a relieved breath, and he can feel Harry’s hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. His curly boyfriend is seated right next to him, providing moral support and making sure that Nick and Louis don’t actually attack each other.

“That is very lovely, Louis, really very lovely. Seems like your boyfriend takes good care of you, let’s just hope you take good care of him too. Huh, that rhymed!”

The punk lets out a breathy laugh while Nick once again introduces the song, and then presses play. When the music starts to play, he turns over to where the couple is sitting opposite of him.

“Guys, I am sorry for any kind of problem I caused in your relationship, but I really do hope you can pull it through, because Louis, you’re actually a really nice guy and Harry deserves someone that makes him happy.”

Harry grins at Grimmy, and then pulls Louis in for a kiss. He hasn’t told Nick about the names Louis called him, figuring it’d be for the better. But here, right now, kissing his boyfriend with their song playing on the radio, he couldn’t be any happier.

…………

It’s about two months later, when the boys are packing up their stuff on the small stage they have been rehearsing on for months. Liam, Zayn and Louis are going to graduate tomorrow, and it is time to clear out the space. 

Harry knows already that it won’t be easy for him, letting this room go. After all, it was here where he first met the man who is possibly the love of his life, where they shared their first kiss, and their first intimate experience. He sighs as he packs a pile of sheet music into a box.

They work quietly, all of them side by side, Louis and Harry occasionally bumping elbows. After everything is finally finished, the boys take their instruments for a last time, Harry sitting down in his usual chair in the front row. 

The songs they play all have that melancholic edge, and Harry closes his eyes, swaying his body in the soft rhythm of the melody. 

A cough takes them all out of the little world they’ve created for themselves. Director Callway stands in the door, behind him a tall man in a business suit and aviator sunglasses. “You see, Mr. Jones, I knew you would find them here. I’ll leave you alone to it, then.” The director shoots the boys a quick smile, and then leaves. The other man, Mr. Jones, takes of his glasses and approaches the stage. “Good evening gentlemen. Which one of you is Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis slowly raises his hand “That’d be me, sir. How can I help you?”

“My name is Simon Jones and I am a talent scout for Columbia Records. I have listened to your band’s songs, the ones that you wrote, on BBC Radio 1. I had to ask Nick Grimshaw where I could find you.”

Louis wanted to interrupt the man, but a raised hand stopped him. “Let me continue. My label has expressed interest in you, Mr. Tomlinson. We want to invite you to London, to record an album. I can’t promise you contract just yet, but... it is very possible that it will lead to one.”

“I’m. Wow, I’m overwhelmed,” Louis answered when he’d picked his jaw up off the floor. “We, we’d probably need to discuss this, Mr. Jones -”

“Not No Direction as a band, Mr. Tomlinson. This offer is meant only for you.”

…………

“But I can’t just leave you here!” Louis is pacing around his room. They had graduated today, and while Louis had already discussed this with his mum, he still doesn’t want to leave his bandmates, his friends, behind.

Liam sighs. “Yes Lou, you can. I want to study IT, you know that. I want to live in a shitty flat with  
Zayn and build a life with him.” Zayn shrugs with a smile and scoots closer to Liam. Harry has to admit they are pretty adorable together. He sometimes questions himself why he didn’t notice their connection before Louis pointed it out.

“And I’ll do music production anyway. I could help you make your albums, mate.” Niall throws a chocolate bonbon into his mouth, grinning widely at the still stressed Louis.

“Okay, but. Harry?” Louis looks at him, and it feels like Harry is the one thing that Louis is holding onto before drifting away in a sea of confusing thoughts. His anchor.

“Babe.” Harry scoops Louis up in a hug, knowing that this is one of the moments where he needs to be the strong one. “This is going to be your big break, don’t you get it? You’re going somewhere, Lou, and you will go far. You’ll just have to grab onto that amazing opportunity and never let go. This is it Lou, this is what you were born for.”

“You think so?” Louis’ voice has gone small again, and Harry can hear his insecurity.

“I know so, baby. This is it. This is you. And me, I’ll be there with you, for every step that you take. I’ll come to London to you after I graduate next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Harry smiled. “I want to share my life with you.”


End file.
